After Hours at Hogwarts A Collective
by C. de la Fere
Summary: PG13 for drinking, a little cursing, and other mild adult behavior. UPDATE: Due to my lack of updating, I have included both Snape's point of view AND Quirrel's...It gets interesting! I promise!
1. Trelawney invited

**Disclaimer: **All of these characters belong to JK Rowling, although I am working on obtaining the rights to the Snape family ;) ... not gonna happen I think :'(

**Author's note:**

Ok... so I've finally updated! w00t. Now, to let you know, most of the recent updates are NOT my own. I just happen to have posted my chapters here and they have very kindly given me the permission to lump everything together as one story for the convienience of both you as the reader and them as buisy college students. Not to say that I'm not also I just...well, whatever, they are all here, and allow me to credit them in turn!

All of Quirrel's parts are by the wonderful TAE!

All of Snapes parts are written by dear Goliath,

Please read also creamsoda1382 's account according to Albus Dumbledore! It's well worth the trip over to her fanfiction site as Dumbledore is the brains behind this operation and has a lot of insite as to whats going on ;)

her story's id is: 2041371 I can't post a link for some reason though.

Also, this is so far fetched compared to what I normally write, and may be seen as a pathetic attempt at humor, but it sure was fun!**_

* * *

_**

**_PRELUDE_**

I know I am anti-social. It is within my very being to be as aloof and unseen as the fates themselves.

I know also that the other teachers don't give a damn whether or not I am involved in any of their little functions ...not that they ever really had any little functions before...but yes, I can say that I, Sibyl Trelawney have never even been to a quidditch match much less any mysterious rendezvous in the dungeons. Besides, I really have no desire or need to participate in any kind of get-together... ESPECIALLY one to be held in Snape's territory...I could wake up in the morning with some terrible affliction that only that spellbinding vampire could have devised...undoubtedly with a few pints of blood missing...

...of course, I would have seen this coming, which is yet another reason for me to stay safely aloof in my own tower.

...spellbinding meant in the literal, magical sense of the word that is...

Besides, no one really likes me anyway...they're all jealous that I can tell the future and they can't, but then, when they actually come asking for my expertise, I get laughed at and scorned upon and, and, and

sigh

How do I know that that's what the teachers think of me? Do you doubt me as well? ... Allow me to point out that if I told them that what these little "journals" of Albus's REALLY are, I would be laughed out of Hogwarts. Yes, I am entirely aware that you are reading this. It is unclear whether you are one, or dozens, or hundreds of lost or bored souls, but I can still see you...reading these words as I write them...laughing at my seclusion and my under appreciation, questioning my word choice by perverting those that I write...telling me to go to the dungeons at midnight...

another sigh

Well, as this calls for desperate measures; there is only one instrument in my art that has the power and foresight enough to tell me whether I should go or not, excuse me while I consult the orb on this matter...

"All signs point to yes"

Then the matter is sealed, the fates wish me to go, so I shall do as the fates desire. Even if they desire me to wake up in the morning a victim of a vampire's malevolent obsession with poisons...

Perhaps I should take a page out of Quirrel's book and bring along a strand of garlic...


	2. Quirrel Invited

**disclaimer:** not only do I (ahem _we_) not own these characters, I am but hosting this piece for my dear friend TAE who wrote it. She is wonderful and brilliant and I love her for it.

On to poor professor Quirrel!

* * *

I am pitiful. 

I have no life.

I have a dopey iguana and and ugly purple turban and the dark lord sticking out of the back of my head, but I have no life. Do you know how I know for sure that I have no life? Dumbledore sent us all an owl today about this drinking party he's having, and already I'm coming up with excuses to why I can't go. Why don't I want to go, Dumbledore will ask. It's because my iguana's sick. He's turning yellow and is growing spikes on his back and I have to be with him in his hour of need. No, Dumbledore, of course I like drinking parties. I'm no social misfit. And I definitely don't have the Dark Lord sticking out the back of my head, in case that's what you were going to ask. Er, yes.

Too many awkward questions there. Voldy says I should go, because it would make me "fit in" better, and thus help further our disguise. He also says that if I call him Voldy ever ever again, he is going to explode me from the inside. But maybe he's right. I mean, of course he's right! Ahem, yes.

That settles it. I'm going to go to the dungeons tonight and get very, very drunk. And I will like it. I may like it so much that I will get sick all over the floor and never do it again. That would teach me for trying to get a life. I'll stick this book in my pocket, in case I feel a pressing need to be all angstful in the middle of the party. Iguana is fed. Turban is on. Here I go! Out the door! To the dungeons!

whimper


	3. Snape invited

**Original Disclaimer:**(This is a HP fan fiction made by me, and is in no way actually related to the actual HP storyline, because thats what fan fictions are. Thank you and have a sweel evening)

**Secondary Disclaimer: **That first disclaimer is original with this piece - written by Goliath, my dear friend for who I am now hosting this work of art.

* * *

Introduction 

My name, as you might of guessed, is Professor Severus Snape, and I am the Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. What you see here is perhaps the sole copy of, Ah Hem, certain unjustifiable events which occurred within my dungeons.

First off, where... How, this all started. Good fucking question if you ask me. I'd sure like to know what the Headmaster did with his head this time. Probably turned his brains to mush with a misfired spell, because if you ask me (which no-one does, the bastards), this is a bad idea.

What? Oh, just a little 'get together' in the dungeons. Though the other professors tend to, whats that word? Its annoying, childish... Hurm... Ah, yes, but of course, 'Giggle', when I call it that. They know something they aren't telling me...

Honestly, if it wasn't from the Headmaster, when I got the owl that said "Saturday, Dungeons, Midnight", I should of burnt it right then and there... Or better yet, grind it up and swap it for one of the student's potions ingredients so their potions explode in their face... Yes... That would have done very nicely, ESPECIALLY FOR POTTER! But it was from the headmaster himself, so I guess I should attend. After all, it is in the Dungeons, so I will be expected to play host. And if they don't expect it, fuck them, I'm doing it anyways.

Hmm... It is getting close to time, better go tidy up- What am I saying? Its the Dungeons! Better go add some, blood stains to the walls or something... snicker Yes... That will scare the pants off some of those panzy ass professors... snicker

_Snape_


	4. Trelawney at the first party

**Disclaimer: **Again, all of these characters etc are JK Rowling's, not mine.

* * *

**Friday, 1 AM**  
  
Let's start at midnight:  
Perhaps I have gotten too used to the sweet, warm, incensed air that I live my life surrounded by, because even before reaching the dungeons I was hit full in the lungs with the foulest, coldest, most unpleasant environment that I have encountered in my sixteen years of teaching at this school. True, I have been down to the dungeons before...well, rarely, but the few times that I DID go down there, I had hoped that I would not have to repeat the experience, and certainly not in the middle of the night. Am glad I wore a few extra shawls. How Severus can LIVE in such conditions, I don't know, but then again, vampires are said to actually like that.  
  
Making sure that my vial of garlic juice was secure within one of my many pockets, and you, dear journal in the other, you with your many sets of eyes...watching my every move... I continued down one of the never ending stairways before meeting Minerva McGonagall on the bottom floor. She shook her head in disapproval, muttered a few things about childish behavior and accompanied me the rest of the way in relative silence.  
  
Honestly, can her lips get any thinner? One would think that she didn't have a mouth...just perhaps a slit through which to breathe and give detentions.  
  
So yes, we arrived in due time to the specified room just to find the doors locked and a large group of professors gathered – all complaining to themselves about being kept up so late after a long week. Snape was looking particularly disgruntled (more than usual that is), but seeing as how this was his territory and he found himself expected to play host in one of his rooms to a great many others who didn't seem to want to be there...  
  
The overall feeling was rather grim...and after a slight panic of realizing that such a terrible sign could be associated with tonight's events already...but the orb had spoken. I clutched my garlic vial as professor Dumbledore open the doors and all of us were greeted with quite a site.  
  
Not something any of us would really have imagined actually. Even I did not foresee this one, and that is saying a lot considering I see all...almost...well, more than many anyway...  
  
There was our headmaster, standing on a table, shooting kegs from his wand and bidding us all to, for lack of a better term "get plastered"... as he so eloquently put it. Minerva's mouth positively disappeared at this, and a very horrified Snape had the gaul to fix his most evil glare of loathing upon the headmaster while Albus's back was turned.  
  
Not surprisingly, no one so much as made a move at first. We all simply stood, staring at Albus as he poured and downed the first, second, and third drink in silence. It was, of all people, Quirrel that took the initiative. It was rather redickulus actually; he had drawn himself up as if he does this all the time and accepted a drink from Dumbledore.  
  
Well, if an iguana loving....I mean, if the fates desired me to come here and participate, then who was I to argue? So naturally, I joined the two of them, to the delighted mutters of approval given by the headmaster.  
  
Most of the rest of the gathered group tentatively made their way into the room, and within the next few minutes most had a drink and were sitting or standing gathered together, talking. It has been that way ever since, and is actually quite nice. Better than a faculty meeting anyway. Severus and Minerva are STILL standing in the same corner that they seemed to have claimed an hour ago, watching, disapproval in the eyes of one, and almost malice from the other.  
  
**2 AM**  
  
I believe that...  
  
THE FATES HELP US! STARS AND GALEXIES! HE IS HERE, I KNOW HE IS!...THE GRIM, YES IT WARNED ME EARLIER! BUT HE IS HERE! THE DARK LORD! IN THIS VERY ROOM! WE'VE ALL BEEN SENT HERE TO MEET OUR ENDS!  
  
**2:45 AM**  
  
I will swear to you that he is here, still, but...but...but am currently to horrified to think about even that...  
  
Ok, so maybe, perhaps, just MAYBE I was wrong. After all, I have had quite a few drinks tonight, and, and, and such a premonition may have been misguided, but...oh I can't bear to watch...  
  
I guess my little fit of divine hysterics sent the room into a minor panic. Oh, it had to have been more than minor to allow THIS to happen...Victoria Vector has informed me that I, apparently, passed out afterwards, but only for a few minutes as Madam Pomfry attended too and was here to help me out. Victoria also told me that Snape went positively lurid at this "little display", and Quirrell started shrieking. It took a shudder "little display by Hooch...cringe to restore...relative...order.  
  
Really do wish I could have stayed in a faint, as Hooch is presently performing the most...shudder...well, a strip tease upon one of the center tables. She's obviously had about as much to drink as Albus himself...let me tell you, neither can retain even a bit of sense after they drink, because he...cringeshudder joined her after the first few twirls. I wouldn't believe that this is happening, if it wasn't for the fact that a poor, very obviously scarred-for-the-rest-of-his-life Professor Flitwick is hiding behind a napkin.  
  
I need another drink.  
  
On the plus side, Snape has left his little corner. Minerva is still standing there, the disapproval now almost completely replaced with a look of a mixture of sheer and utter...well...terror I guess could describe it.  
  
I need another drink...  
  
**2:50 AM**  
  
Wow, well, that was awfully nice of him...  
  
Did I just use that word to describe Severus Snape? Yes, I think I did...perhaps I should be afraid?...  
  
Or else, perhaps the whole dark lord thing was imagined, because now I swear I was just handed a refill by Severus...and he seemed glad to give it.  
  
In fact, he's starting to serve everyone, playing host. Yes, I am imagining things. I did not just see him smile. That does not happen; it is against the whole grain of the universe! Yes, and our quidditch referee and headmaster are not dancing on a tabletop, and the dark lord is not in this room.  
  
In other news, Flitwick has actually consumed his napkin and is currently hiding his face in Victoria's robes.  
  
**3:30 AM**  
  
Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee  
  
**4 AM**  
  
tired. Kinda nauscious... going...bed...  
  
**4:30 AM  
  
**whos idea...live at top... tower? 


	5. Quirrel at the first party

**Disclaimer: **Allow me to again state that any entries in these "journals" by poor professor Quirrel were written by the amazing TAE and, of course, everything ultamatly belongs to JK Rowling :)

* * *

Well, here I am at the party, Voldy-_mort_, and I hope you're happy. I don't know when the last time is that I've been this humiliated, or this miserable. Okay, so maybe it seemed kind of promising when I first got here. Sort of. I hurried to the dungeons, terrified that Snape was going to leap out at me from some corner and demand to know what was going on. I don't care if I'm the one with the big evil plans and not him, he�s still dark and scary looking and he always watches me funny as if he _knows_. Either that or he secretly wants to pull my turban off just to see how I look without it. A lot of people have that problem.

Yeah, so once we all got there Dumbledore jumped onto the table (I almost had a heart attack) and told us we need to loosen up and be happy and more importantly, get drunk. Then he did some sort of big beer-accio type spell, and all sorts of drinks appeared. He looked all excited and waited for somebody to make a move, but everybody just sort of stood there. Maybe they were still as startled by Dumbledore's jump and professors-gone-wild speech as I was, but I think it's more likely they didn't want to look stupid by being the first one to grab a drink. But as I told myself, (and as Voldemort whispered to me at that exact second, as if I wasn't nervous enough) what I would do is to march proudly up there, take a gulp of something-or-other, and attempt to make conversation.

I opted to do nothing.

"_Get up there right now you idiot_!" Voldemort hissed angrily. I stood there casually, trying to pretend I wasn�t about to start talking to my other face.

"Which one?" I muttered under my breath, "I don't want any of them."

"Don't be stupid" Voldemort whispered. "You drink unicorn blood every night and you're afraid of a little Firewhiskey?"

"No," I mumbled. "I don't want to look silly." I felt his eyes rolling in the back of my skull.

"_Go_," he whispered, "_Right now, or I shall make strange noises very loudly!" _

Bastard. He did that in class the other day, and the Weasley twins almost died laughing. So I smiled really big, and said something idiotic like, "Well, let's get this party started!" and sauntered over to the table where the drinks were. I smiled even bigger and said forcedly, "Well, let's see here. I think I'll have some of this... stuff."

I grabbed a bottle and stared at it stupidly. Oh well. No choice now. I pulled the stopper out, took a big swig, and... immediately choked up the whole thing onto my robes and the dungeon floor. Just thinking about it is making me cringe. "Heh," I laughed feebly. "Good stuff. Er, yes. Just have to... get in the proper mood."

I stood there for a moment, staring at the dumbfounded faces that surrounded me, then dashed off to the corner where I collapsed onto a chair and began to write all this. It looks like my little show gave them something to talk about though, as they've all gotten up and started drinking and mingling, and occasionally pretending not to look at me. Maybe in a while I'll get up and try to regain some of my dignity. Even Voldemort is embarrassed for me, he says it's okay if I want to stay in the corner and cower for a bit. Yes, I think I'll do that...


End file.
